


Interview With a Spermpire

by therealfroggy



Category: A-Team (2010)
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-05
Updated: 2012-12-05
Packaged: 2017-11-20 10:02:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/584154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therealfroggy/pseuds/therealfroggy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written in response to a kink meme at LiveJournal. The prompt: Face is a spermpire. He needs to suck c*ck to survive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Interview With a Spermpire

The first thing Hannibal noticed was the fist bumps. They were all over the place. No matter where he went, he saw soldiers fist bumping each other. Senior officers, junior officers, regular enlisted guys... Every time two men passed each other within camp, they held out a fist to the other with a shit-eating grin. A few of them even tried to fist bump _him_ , but when Hannibal just arched an eyebrow in query they quickly left it alone.

The second thing Hannibal noticed was the happy grin on his lieutenant's face. His XO went around looking like the cat that got the cream all day long, and not even the hot Iraqi sun or the dry desert winds seemed able to put a damper on his mood. Face was fairly glowing, and if Hannibal hadn't known better, he'd think that Face got laid, massaged and manicured on a nightly basis.

Come to think of it, that just might be possible. Who knew what sort of extra services the kid's nightly diversions offered? That cute nurse who just got transferred might be a part-time masseuse, what did Hannibal know.

Then there was the general lift in mood around camp. Of course, these days they were all excited about the unofficial word that had come from Pentagon that they were getting pulled back soon, but it was as if, all of a sudden, morale had taken a gigantic boost and soldiers were running better on the tracks, sleeping better at night, and being nicer to the natives than ever before. Everyone seemed, for lack of a better word, more fit for fight.

Still, so far, things didn't seem _very_ odd. A little strange, but nothing that would have gotten Hannibal worried. Until he was headed for Russ' tent one night for a glass of scotch and a cigar, threw back the tent flap with a friendly, “Evening, Russ!” and was met with a sight he was quite sure he'd never forget.

Russ, in his chair. Face, on his knees in front of Russ. With the older man's dick down his throat. And Russ' hands in Face's hair, the general's voice filling the tent.

“Take it, Peck, that's right, all of it!”

Hannibal stopped dead. Face moaned, so loudly Hannibal was sure they must have heard him in down-town Baghdad, and his throat moved as he swallowed. Visibly.

“Uh,” Hannibal said intelligently.

“Oh shit,” Russ said, a tad more appropriately.

“Mmhmmghph,” Face pointed out around his mouthful.

“I'll... be in my tent,” Hannibal said slowly. “General. Kid.”

And with a stiff nod to each of them, he left Russ' tent, went back to his own, and lit his cigar. There he sat, perched on the edge of his bunk and smoking furiously, waiting for one or both of them to come in with an explanation. And it had better be a fucking good one.

Face came shuffling into the tent some five minutes later, eyes downcast and shoulders hunched. “Boss?”

“Kid,” Hannibal acknowledged again. “Gonna tell me why you were in General Morrison's tent, sucking his dick like a... a...”

“Like a what?” Face said, giving Hannibal a look like he was a puppy and the older man had just treated him like a soccer ball.

“Like you wanted it bad,” Hannibal grit out. “Don't try to turn this on me, lieutenant. Are you working a con on him? Do you need something he can get? Wait, don't tell me, you've a seniority kink? Those eagles on his shoulders turn you on?”

Face's mouth was opening and closing during Hannibal's tirade, as if the younger man wanted to speak but couldn't quite bring himself to do it. When Hannibal finally finished, however, Face approached him slowly with hands outstretched soothingly.

“Boss, it's nothing like that. Yeah, he's got something I need. I would have gone to someone else, only he called me over when I was passing his tent to ask about that last mission report, and I thought, why not? Jeez, boss, it's not like I instigated a revolt or something, it was just a little fellatio!” Face exclaimed.

Hannibal stared at his XO until the younger man sighed and slumped a little.

“Yeah, okay, not the best defence in the world, I know. But trust me, boss, you really wouldn't understand. I just... felt like it. I was hungry,” Face added in a pleading voice.

Hannibal pinched the bridge of his nose, brow furrowing. “You were what?”

“If I tell you, will you promise not to take this further than this tent?” Face asked, sitting next to Hannibal. Without being told. Hannibal snorted. He clearly needed to discipline his subordinates better.

“Tell me.”

“I'm a spermpire,” Face said, trying to make it sound light but instead sounding as if he was terrified of the man sitting next to him. “I need to suck cock to survive.”

Hannibal once more stared at Face. What had that boy been smoking?

“No, it's true,” Face insisted. “My body can only absorb nutrients from semen. All that food you see me eating every day? It's just for show, I can't actually benefit from it. It just goes through my system. I need sperm, one or two ejaculations every day, depending on the volume.”

Hannibal held his hand up. “You've been taking Murdock's pills, haven't you?”

“Boss, why do you think there are no medical records in my file?” Face asked. “Why do you think I look like this? Come on, not even straight men can resist this. It's not natural, you know. The spermpire is closely related to the succubi and incubi.”

“So you were just feeding, is that it?” Hannibal said sarcastically.

“Boss, come on! You've got to believe me, I can't prove it to you until tomorrow night at the earliest! I can't wait that long, not with you looking at me like that,” Face pleaded.

Hannibal sighed. “I don't believe you. But let's just for a second assume that I do. Have you been sucking dick every night since I met you?”

“And sometimes in the mornings,” Face confirmed. “I used to have a regular donor, but he got transferred a few weeks ago. And with all these missions we've been doing, and this fucking desert drying me out, I need to feed more often and in greater quantity than I usually do. One donor won't be enough anymore.”

“And how do you propose to prove this insane tale to me?” Hannibal asked drily.

“I won't feed,” Face answered promptly. “I swear, boss, not one drop of come will pass my lips until tomorrow night – or let's say the morning after that. You can keep constant watch and you'll see for yourself. I'll eat and sleep and do everything else that normal humans do, but I still won't be able to stand on my own two feet by sunrise the day after tomorrow. And then I'll need to suck someone off to get my shit together again. You'll see.”

“You've been drinking Morrison's scotch. Is that it? Please tell me that's it,” Hannibal begged.

“Really, boss. I'm going to prove it to you,” Face said determinedly. “Handcuff me to my bunk tonight so you can be sure I won't go anywhere. And watch closely. I swear you'll believe me when you see -”

“Fine, fine,” Hannibal sighed. Anything to shut this nagging up. So he handcuffed Face to his bunk, and was just getting undressed for his own bed when Murdock and BA came in, each carrying a tool box.

“Hey, bossman. Why's Face cuffed to his bed?”

“He's a spermpire,” Hannibal said.

“Oh, okay,” Murdock replied. “Good night, all!”

“I really don't wanna know,” BA muttered, and turned the light off.

***

When Hannibal woke up the next morning, the first thing he saw was Face – lying draped over his bunk with a child-like pout turning the corners of his lips down. Trying very hard to ignore what that sight did to him, Hannibal cleared his throat.

“Morning, el-tee.”

“I'm starving,” Face said petulantly. “Fucking hollowed out, Hannibal! If you'd believed me, I wouldn't have to go hungry all day.”

Oh, the accusation in that small, simple sentence. Face was complaining that Hannibal didn't trust him. And, yeah, Hannibal could see how that would hurt. But he was still too intelligent to believe the kid's story about sperm vampires or whatever. So he just huffed and got out of bed.

“I thought you ate last night,” Hannibal said drily, unlocking Face's handcuff before going for his towel and shaving cream.

“Well, Morrison's not exactly a young man anymore,” Face said with an apologetic grin. “That was like having a sandwich when you could eat a pound-sized steak.”

Hannibal grimaced. “Jesus, kid! Go easy on the disturbing images, would you?”

By that time, Murdock and BA were stirring, too. Hannibal headed for the showers and the boys followed him. Hannibal could have had a more private shower if he'd bothered to, but he'd never considered himself above sharing quarters with his team just because he was an officer and they weren't. So they all shuffled into the showers, Murdock yawning and BA grumbling about Face and his fool stories.

“Face, how come you don't use your awesome powers for the team?” Murdock asked, washing his hair with a scrub brush. Hannibal didn't ask.

“I do use my powers,” Face said indignantly. “They're just, uh, not really that awesome.”

“Well, what are your powers?” Murdock insisted.

“I can hypnotize people,” Face said, lathering his hair up with something minty-smelling. “Sort of like a glamour spell, y'know? I look deep into people's eyes and they sort of lose their will to resist anything I say. How do you think I conned us the launch codes for that old Soviet missile last spring? Vanya wouldn't have just given me that, buddy, no matter how good a scam I ran.”

“And now that poor man can't have his rebellion,” Murdock said sadly. “Bosco, did you take my soap?”

“Well, that was kind of the point,” Face said tartly. “Also, my saliva works like Sildenafil citrate.”

“Sil-what?”

“Viagra,” Face said lightly, rinsing his facial scrub off. “The first time I kissed a guy, he was hard for two days. I hadn't quite mastered the whole dosage thing yet. Ow! What was that for?”

BA had thrown his bottle of all-in-one shower gel at Face's head. “For tryin' to mess with crazy's head, fool! Now he gonna think he's a vampire!”

“Spermpire, BA, spermpire!” Face said with exasperation. “And he knows there's only one spermpire on this team, don't you, buddy?”

“Sure I do,” Murdock chirped, handing BA back his shower gel. “'Sides, can't be both a spermpire and the ghost of airplanes past at the same time.”

BA grumbled as he reached for his towel. Just as he was drying off his Mohawk, however, he paused and looked at Face. Then, miraculously, the dark man's cheeks turned even darker and he looked at the floor. Hannibal's eyes darted between BA and Face, and with an internal sigh he noticed that Face was staring avidly at – yes, at BA's crotch. The kid was keeping up the ruse, huh?

“Whatcha starin' at, fool?” BA snarled, trying to glare at Face but looking more and more embarrassed.

“Lunch,” Face said, his voice taking on a deep, smooth tone. “Wanna come back to the tent with me and hear all about my... exploits?”

BA's eyes seemed to glaze over. “Sure...”

Hannibal damn near choked on his tongue. What?!

“Aaw, Facey, no fair glamouring BA!” Murdock whined. “I wanna hear about your exploits, too!”

“There will be no exploits, of any kind, in any tent!” Hannibal thundered. “Boys, stop fooling about! We have laps right after breakfast, a briefing after lunch and we're fixing the General's Humvee after that.”

Face broke the eye contact with BA and the sergeant immediately jerked back, looking with dawning horror on Face.

“We do not have to fix the Humvee,” Face said indignantly. “Since when did we have to fix cars around here?”

“Since I said so,” Hannibal snapped. “Get that stuff out of your hair and get dressed, lieutenant, or it'll be laps all evening as well. Besides, I thought you told me you were going to prove you're a spermpire?”

Face bitched all the way to the mess tent about Hannibal being a spoilsport.

***

All through that day, Hannibal was expecting Face to grin and punch him in the shoulder, admitting that he'd been trying to pull a prank or something. But Face never did. The kid behaved just like he normally would, if a little more unfocused. Oh, and the soulful gazing. Hannibal wasn't sure what that was all about, but every time he met Face's eyes, the lieutenant gazed at him soulfully.

Murdock insisted that Face was trying to glamour Hannibal, but when the older man just laughed derisively, Murdock agreed that nobody would be _that_ stupid.

By the time they retired for the night, Hannibal was getting worried. He'd watched Face all day, surreptitiously of course, and the younger man had eaten three square meals, shared a few beers with BA, ran his laps like a good boy and was now getting ready for bed. And he looked awful.

There were dark circles under Face's eyes. His skin seemed pasty and pale, his face gaunt. His hair even seemed less... lustrous than usual. The kid seemed to have aged ten years in a single day, and as much as Hannibal's rational brain tried to find a reason, it failed. Face looked like he'd been held hostage in a dark room and starved for weeks, while Hannibal knew for a fact that he'd eaten and slept well.

“Face...” Hannibal began, his voice hesitant.

“No, boss, it's cool,” Face said determinedly. “Just wait until tomorrow morning. But, uh, you might want to get me to the showers before breakfast, okay? Just so I can see if any of the boys there need a helping hand. Or, you know, mouth.”

“Why won't you let Face feed, bossman?” Murdock asked, looking at Hannibal as if the older man had stepped on one of his toy helicopters just for fun. “Can't you see the man's hungry?”

Hannibal sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose again. “Murdock. Captain. There is no such thing as a spermpire! Face is just letting this joke get out of hand. Besides, I never told him he couldn't... feed. Or whatever it is he does.”

“Just wait until tomorrow morning, buddy,” Face said, grinning weakly at Murdock. “He'll believe me then. And then I can go feed.”

“I'd let you have my sperm if you needed it, Facey,” Murdock said solicitously, as if offering the conman a ride to work. “Anytime, Faceman, just say the word.”

The tent was suddenly very, very quiet. Hannibal could practically hear the crickets chirping outside. Murdock was still smiling happily at Face, and BA was studiously not looking at anyone else. Or anything, for that matter.

“You. Boys,” Hannibal said from behind clenched teeth. “Bed. Now.”

_Before I go completely mad. I don't know which is worse; the assaults on my sanity or on my self-control. Gah. We're sleeping, and we're sleeping now._

Hannibal figured he could deal with wanting men. He could deal with the unseemly attraction to his sundry team members, Face in particular. He could even deal with the fact that Face sucked cock on a daily basis. But he could not, would not, deal with Murdock offering Face his sperm. So he extinguished the single light bulb and snarled at all three boys to go to sleep.

***

The next time Hannibal woke up, it was to the sight of two terrified eyes boring into his own. It was only pure instinct that kept him from yelling and sitting up too quickly, which would either have thrown Murdock off him or knocked their heads together with enough force to put them both in the medical tent.

“Captain. Why are you sitting on me?”

“Faceman's dying!” Murdock yelled, and that startled BA, who jolted awake with a loud curse. “Quick, boss, get your pants off!”

There was that silence again, only this time there were no crickets, only the sounds of an army base efficiently awakening. Hannibal felt his left eye begin to twitch completely of its own accord.

“Why do you think Face is dying, and why, in the name of Pike's eyebrows, would such an event require me to remove my pants?” Hannibal said, trying his very best not to yell at Murdock. The man looked too frightened and too antsy to really rouse anyone's anger.

“He needs ta feed, bossman! Come on, look at 'im!” Murdock pleaded.

Hannibal sat up carefully and looked over at Face's bunk. It only took one glance at the lieutenant to make Hannibal worried. He frowned, shifting Murdock gently off himself so he could get up and feel Face's forehead.

The younger man's skin was clammy and cold. His breath came in quickened little gasps, and his limbs lay deadly still under the covers. His cheeks were hollowed and concave, making him look more like a corpse than anything else, and his eyes were sunken and dark.

“Face? Face, talk to me, kid. What's wrong?” Hannibal asked softly.

“Need... sperm,” Face whispered hoarsely. “Do you believe me now, Hannibal?”

Hannibal didn't know what to think. He wanted to believe his lieutenant, he really did, but there was no such thing as spermpires! Dammit, his cock-sucking XO was slutty, not metabolically impaired, he thought frantically, considering whether to get Face medical attention or not.

“Well, if you won't help 'im, Bosco and I will!” Murdock said determinedly. He shoved Hannibal out of the way and dove in, pressing his lips to Face's.

Hannibal could only watch in indecision as Face slowly responded, and before he could really decide how to feel about the fact that Murdock and Face were necking right in front of him, his captain gave a low moan and began rutting slowly against Face's hips.

“Boys,” Hannibal began softly, but Murdock didn't pay him any attention. The crazy pilot was already chucking his t-shirt and reaching into his own shorts.

Oh holy hell.

As unable to look away as if he'd been turned to stone, Hannibal watched as Murdock began jacking himself off, right there, right over Face. The lieutenant seemed to sharpen up; Face slowly rolled them until he was on top, then slithered down Murdock's body and yanked on his friend's shorts weakly.

“Thanks, HM,” Face said with a sigh before taking Murdock's cock into his mouth.

Hannibal was doing his very best not to react, in any possible way, to the sight of Face sucking on Murdock's dick like he needed it. Which, Hannibal's crazier brain-half insisted, he really did. BA muttered something decidedly unhelpful about the look on Murdock's face, and Hannibal felt himself throb and harden slowly in his underwear. Wait, fuck that, he was already straining the fabric of not only his briefs, but also his pyjama pants.

“Gah!” Murdock gasped, arching up, hands twisting in the sheets. His face contorted and he let out a wail so loud Hannibal had to glance towards the entrance to make sure nobody had heard. When he turned back, Hannibal was treated to the sight of Face swallowing with enthusiasm.

“Christ,” Face moaned, licking his lips and making Hannibal's blood pressure rise dangerously. “No kidding, HM, that's the best thing I've ever tasted. Man, I'm starving!”

And then he turned his eyes on Hannibal. And even as Hannibal watched, he could see his lieutenant get some of his colour back.

“Uh... boss? I don't mean to be presumptuous, but... Do you mind if I...?” Face asked, and looked deep into Hannibal's eyes.

And the world narrowed down completely; the only thing Hannibal could think of, was how much he wanted to please Face. To give his boy anything he wanted. In fact, there was nothing in the whole world Hannibal wanted more than for Face to have anything and everything he needed. Everything else was just a pleasant fog. As if watching from outside himself, he heard his voice say, “Not at all, Templeton. I'm yours.”

“I'm sorry,” Face said, then he was on his feet and in front of Hannibal in an instant. “But it can't be helped, boss.”

Hannibal knew, somewhere deep down, that Face was apologizing because he'd just done something wrong, but it didn't occur to him what that might be. Not when those blue eyes were locked to his own and his dick was achingly hard and everything was just peachy. And it just kept getting better.

Face dropped to his knees, pulling Hannibal's pyjamas and briefs down just enough to get at his dick. The lieutenant's gaze was hungry, almost predatory, as he took in the sight of Hannibal's length. Hannibal just stood there, completely unable to move, until Face closed his eyes just as his lips closed around the head of Hannibal's cock.

And the spell broke.

“Fuck! Jesus, kid, what are you doing?” Hannibal groaned, hands fisting in Face's hair to pull him off. But either the kid's hair was stronger than it looked or he just didn't feel the tug, because Face just hummed around the hardness in his mouth and dived in, deep-throating it easily before pulling back to do it again.

“Face, stop,” Hannibal said weakly, but his heart wasn't in it.

And then Face opened his eyes, looking up at Hannibal from his kneeling position on the floor, and Hannibal felt himself fall into that pleasant fog. Was he telling Face to stop? No, no, of course not. His boy. His gorgeous boy. His boy could have anything he wanted...

Hannibal barely heard himself cry out as his orgasm crawled up on him, racing up his spine before he could stop himself. He was looking at Face, their eyes locked together, and he was shuddering, and Face was swallowing his come, just like he'd done Murdock's. And Hannibal's legs gave out, leaving him in a collapsed heap on the floor.

“Oh, God, boss, I'm sorry, I couldn't stop!”

The mental fog was gone, as suddenly as it had come, but the lingering ripples of orgasm were still chasing through his frame and Hannibal couldn't speak just yet.

“Gnugh...” he pointed out, head thumping back on the floor. “Kid.”

“Hannibal, listen to me, before you recover and become all angry and capable of killing me again,” Face said, speaking so quickly Hannibal wondered if he was hearing things in fast-forward. “I didn't mean to, uh, just help myself like that. I mean, I did, when I saw you got hard without my glamouring you at first, but then you told me to stop and I couldn't, I was too hungry...”

Face trailed off, looking down at his CO who was slowly sitting up, eyes still dazed.

“See, this is why I never starve myself!” Face exclaimed, covering his eyes with a hand. His hair was looking perfectly lustrous again. “I just used my powers to molest my CO!”

“Kid, stop yapping and get a grip,” Hannibal said, by now mostly recovered. “You sucked my dick. Hardly gonna give me mental scars, is it? What was it you said the other day, it was just a bit of fellatio?”

Face looked at him, mouth agape, and Hannibal couldn't resist teasing his XO a little.

“Even though it was really spectacular fellatio.”

Face fell back onto the floor himself, hands covering his face. Which was pretty crimson by that time, Hannibal noticed. “Don't ever do that to me again, Hannibal! Next time you get all post-orgasmic, recover a bit faster so I won't think I've gotten myself thrown off the unit, would you?”

Hannibal chuckled, getting to his feet and pulling his underwear back up. “Sorry, kid. Spectacular doesn't even begin to cover it. But if you ever glamour me again, I'll break your neck and use your windpipe for a straw. I mean it; I don't mind the feeding and I don't mind the saliva, but glamouring a team member is officially off limits.”

Hannibal felt that should about cover it, and waited for an affirmative response from the above mentioned team members. Then he looked around the tent and found that both Murdock and BA were gone.

“Shit,” Hannibal said, a thousand reasons for their departure going through his head at once. Very, very few of them were good, except the fetching of breakfast or going for a shower. “Kid, get dressed, we need to find -”

Just then, a scowling BA hesitantly let himself be pushed back inside the tent by an insistent – and grinning – Murdock.

“Fool, can'tcha see they want to be alone?” BA muttered.

“Rubbish,” Murdock said in his best Manchester accent. “Facey's still hungry, ain't you, Faceman?”

“Hells yes!” Face said eagerly, then faltered and turned to Hannibal. “Uh, I mean...”

“I want to watch,” Hannibal said simply, letting himself fall back onto his bunk.

Face stared at him. BA stared at him. Murdock was trying to lift BA's arms above his head so the dark man's wife-beater could be removed, but those arms weighed about as much as BA could bench press and so Murdock had little success.

“Really?” Face asked, voice intrigued. “You want to see the, uh, feeding process?”

“No, I want to see my lieutenant such my sergeant off,” Hannibal said, lowering his voice until it resembled a growl. “If you boys don't mind.”

“An' here I thought you were a man of principle, sir,” Murdock said, smirking at Hannibal.

“I was, until Face sucked us both off in less than ten minutes,” Hannibal admitted. “The lines may consider themselves crossed, redrawn and shot to pieces. Besides, I think we just found Face three new donors.”

Face's eyes lit up. “Really, boss? You mean, I can feed off you guys? You don't mind?”

“You can feed offa me any day, Faceman,” Murdock confirmed.

“When you suck dick like that, you can feed off anyone you want,” Hannibal said, “so if you choose us, well, I think that's one of the finer compliments I've ever had. What about you, BA?”

“I ain't gonna be left out, if he's any good,” BA said, his scowl turning rather benign. “Now come on, pretty boy, eat your breakfast.”

“I already had breakfast and lunch,” Face said coquettishly, slinking closer to BA. “But I feel like an early dinner.”

As Face sank to his knees, in front of BA this time, Murdock came over and joined Hannibal on his bunk.

“There's only one downside to this lil' arrangement, boss,” the pilot said.

“Mm, and what's that?” Hannibal asked, too busy staring at Face's lips as the younger man eagerly wet them while undoing BA's fly (and how the hell had his sergeant ever managed to get his jeans on, Hannibal wondered).

Murdock followed Hannibal's gaze, licking his own lips in unconscious mimicry. “Morale's gonna completely collapse around this place.”

***

It took them some time to work out a rota, because sometimes Face got hungry in the middle of the day as well and they had to shuffle their assigned nights around. And when they finally did have a working schedule, Face ruined it all by pointing out that Hannibal's sheer virility gave Face his fill for an entire day with just one ejaculation, while Murdock – who was sometimes running on an assortment of pills – was enough for breakfast but not for dinner at night.

With a growl of frustration, Hannibal balled up the sketched-out schedule and glared at his XO. “And what do you propose we do about this, lieutenant?”

“Well, I know you're the man with the plan, Hannibal, but how about just ad-libbing?” Face purred, sliding around the table and pressing up against Hannibal's broad back. “I mean, there's no end to my appetites... And three strapping Rangers like yourselves must surely have enough blood in circulation for at least twice a day...”

Whereupon Hannibal threw Face over the table and threatened to fuck him through it if he didn't stop being such a cock-tease. When Face only moaned and told him that another one of his awesome powers included naturally occurring lubrication in the oddest places, Hannibal made good on his threats and fucked him until they both saw stars.

Face's hair was lustrous for days on end.


End file.
